


Two Sides of a Brand New Coin

by Lunaraven0



Series: Discontinued Because of Dumbassery [1]
Category: Markiplier Egos, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaraven0/pseuds/Lunaraven0
Summary: It was supposed to be just a normal ghost hunt. Something easy. But since when does easy ever walk the way of the Winchesters?-DISCONTINUED BECAUSE I AM A DUMBASS.-





	1. Chapter 1

Dean stepped around the corner, gun in hand, ready to shoot anything in his way. Sam was right next to him, holding the EMF reader. It was quietly beeping

"Why's this place got to be in the middle of the forest? Asylums are creepy enough out in the open." Dean peeked in an open room, saw that it was empty, then kept going.

"I don't know!" Sam said. "I'm not the one who designed it." The EMF's beeping was speeding up. "Something's here." 

They turned a corner, then stopped dead in their tracks when they were greeted with a very strange sight. 

The door at the end of the hallway was...distorted, no, covered, no, stained with a red, blue, and grey 3D effect. The beeping was going insane now, and the air in front of the two brothers fogged up with each breath they took.

"Um, is that supposed to be there?" Sam asked. Just then, the effect...glitched, as if in answer to Sam's question.

 _As if it had heard him_. 

"I'm guessing no." Dean raised his gun, but he never got a chance to use it as it was torn from his hand by some force he couldn't see. Then, the force threw him against the wall, not allowing him to move. Sam was across from him, also not moving. 

Dean tried to speak, but nothing came out. Suddenly, the door opened, and two strange men walked out of the room.

The first was, from what Dean could see, the source of the 3D thing. His skin was grey, red and blue lights surrounding him. He had dark hair that hung low over his right eye. He wore a grey button-up shirt, a black jacket, black jeans, and black shoes. The second man seemed to be the exact opposite of the first. He was bright. He had part of his hair dyed a hot pink color, which fell to the left side of his face; he also had a pink handlebar mustache, which was odd. He wore a pale yellow button-up shirt, with tan pants and grey suspenders, which was also odd.

He was talking about something, but Dean heard absolutely none of it as it was drowned out by a strange ringing. It definitely wasn't the EMF reader; this sounded different.

The grey man looked at Dean. His eyes had no color, just black voids where color should have been. It was strangely mesmerizing.  

 _Go to sleep_ , a smooth voice said. _Don't remember_. 

Dean forgot about everything but the voice. It was so, so calm, and soothing. It knew what Dean needed. Sleep sounded like the perfect thing right now.

Dean felt his head fall to the side as the world turned black around him.

~

  They were outside, walking down the asylum's long driveway. 

"The hell is this thing?" Wilford turned the small device he'd taken off the long-haired guy over in his hands, studying every detail. It was beeping so fast that it was almost a constant whine. 

Dark looked over at the pink-mustached man, at the object, and shrugged. "I dunno. It could be a Geiger counter." 

"But it gets faster near you," Wilford pressed it onto Dark to demonstrate, "and you're not radioactive. And there's no radiation around here either."

"Then I don't know," Dark said. He rolled his neck, his red and blue aura glitching when several bones in his neck popped loudly. His shoulders visibly relaxed. 

"You want to drive or no?" Wilford asked. He was holding a set of keys he'd taken off the short-haired guy. "I got us a free ride!" 

"You drive." 

Wilford ran the rest of the way down the driveway, opening the doors to the only car there: a black '67 Chevy Impala. 

Dark slid into the passenger seat as Wilford turned the ignition. The car started up with a deep rumbling noise. 

"Oohoho! Listen to her _purr_ Darkie!" Wilford said with a grin. "She's beautiful!" Dark rolled his eyes with a small smile as Wilford drove "her" out of the driveway and away from the asylum. "Where to?"

"The cabin."


	2. Chapter 2

The asylum was quiet. It was always like that in the early morning. Everything was still trying to wake up all the way, stirring slowly.

Dean, however, jumped awake very suddenly when the wall behind him creaked loudly. He stood there for a moment, gun raised, then realized nothing was attacking him. He sighed, shaking his head. 

Sam woke up next. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stood. "What happened? Weren't we just....walking down the hall way?"

"I don't know. I think....something doesn't feel right, now might be a good time to leave."

They made their way outside, intending to get in the Impala and drive off. There was just one small problem with that plan. 

The Impala was not where Dean left it, and in place of the keys that should've been in his pocket was a bunch of pink glitter. 

Dean waved his hand around, trying and failing to get the glitter off. "What the hell did this?!" 

Sam frowned. "A trickster?"

"They didn't have to take the Impala!!" 

Sam noticed that a bit of glitter had gotten onto Dean's nose. Instead of mentioning it, he said, "Well, this is a problem." 

"A PROBLEM!? THEY FUCKING STOLE MY CAR!!"

~

(Meanwhile...) 

Wilford carefully maneuvered the Impala up the uneven path to the small cabin nestled at the top of the hill. The cabin was hidden away in a dense forest far away from any nosy neighbors. They could do whatever they wanted here. 

He parked next to the side of the house, turning the car off. He looked at Dark in the passenger seat; his eyes were closed. 

"Dark... we're home." Dark didn't respond. Wilford gently poked Dark in the shoulder. Dark made a noise, but otherwise didn't respond; he was dead asleep.

Wilford exited the car, went around to Dark's side, and opened the door. Gently, Wilford gathered up Dark in his arms and carried him, bridal style, inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean lay on the motel bed, an arm over his face, thinking. Whatever had been in the asylum had, apparently, knocked Sam and Dean out, wiped their memories of the encounter, and stolen their car. At least, that's what Dean could reason from recent events. 

Dean was going to murder whoever did this.

The door opened and Sam walked in. "I got food." 

"Did you get pie?" 

"No."

Dean definitely did not pout because of the lack of pie what are you talking about, and took a burger out of the bag. It tasted crap, but it was food. He was starving.

"Do you have any idea what happened?" Sam asked, mouth half full of burger.

"Not really." 

"All of our stuff was in there." 

"I know." 

The key to the bunker was in there."

"... Shit... Wait why was it in the car?"

"I left it in the glove box for safekeeping." 

"Well obviously it wasn't very safe was it?"

Sam didn't respond.

~ 

Dark walked into the garage, holding a mug if coffee, expecting Wilford to be doing something, I dunno, normal, but no. He was upside down in the backseat of the car he stole the day before. "What the hell are you doing?" 

Wiford jumped at the sound of Dark's voice and fell over onto the seats. "Ow! Dark!" He sat up and looked at Dark. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" 

"What are you doing?" 

"What I was doing, before you so rudely interrupted me," Wilford glared at Dark, "was cleaning out the car. I noticed she smelled funny on the way here, so i decided to clean her out." He gestured to a table next to the wall. "I put everything that's not trash over there if you want to look at it."

"Mm-hm." Dark took a drink of his coffee and wandered over to the table, not really interested in any of the stuff. Guns, maps, a box of cassettes, more guns, a journal with way too many photos taped to its pages; typical hunter stuff. He was about to turn to leave when something caught his eye. 

A small metal box with a very familiar starlike symbol carved into the lid.

Dark felt his blood run cold. His cup of coffee fell from his hand, forgotten. 

He knew that symbol. He knew the people behind it. Wilford had almost died because of them. If they were back... 

"Dark? You ok?" Wilford asked, but Dark wasn't listening. Dark picked up the small box with shaking hands and opened it. A key lay inside. A knot started to form in the pit of his stomach. They were going to want it back. 

"Dark?! Are you ok?" Wilford asked again.

Dark straightened. "I'm fine." He walked quickly to the door, taking the box with him, and avoided Wilford's concerned gaze. "I have some papers I need to...do."


	4. Chapter 4

"You said you were only after ghosts?"

"Yes."

"And you don't remember what happened?"

"We just woke up this morning."

Cas furrowed his brow. "Did you investigate the rest of the asylum?" 

"No."

"Why not?"

"It just felt...wrong," Dean said. "like just being there was going to kill me."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "We high-tailed it out of here as fast as we could."

Cas frowned, thinking. Then he said, "Wait here," and disappeared.

-

(At the asylum...)

Cas felt it as soon as he appeared on the grounds, the wrong. It felt like something was trying to crush the air out of him, very slowly. The feeling intensified as he approached the building. What had been here?

Inside, he followed the feeling, looking for its source. He found...well, something in the centermost room.

There seemed to be...discoloration scattered aroung the room. Grey spots ringed by red and blue. Some splotches were just small spots on the floor, and there was a big blob on the far wall.

Other than that, the room was empty.  
Cas moved to the far spot and reached out to touch it, but it receded when his hand got near. He'd never seen anything like it, and that thought was worrying.

~

Dark paced the length of his office. He'd called the Host an hour ago, and waiting for a call back was practically torture. 

A knock sounded from his door. "Dark? You in there?" It was Wilford.

"I'm busy!"

"I brought you some food. You didn't eat breakfast, so I figured you might be hungry."  
Dark considered this for a moment, then opened the door. Wilford stood there holding a wrapped burger from a fast food place a couple miles out. Dark grabbed it and quickly tried to close the door, but Wilford forced it all the way open, leaning on it for good measure. "Nope. No hiding, Dark."

"I'm not hiding anything." Dark tried to shove Wilford off the door, but he didn't even budge. In fact, Wilford actually bent down, picked Dark up, and draped him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Dark yelped and nearly dropped his burger. "What are you doing!?! PUT ME DOWN!"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong Darky!" 

"WILFORD!"

Just then, Dark's phone started ringing on his desk. Wilford picked it up and and answered it. "Hello, this is Wilford Warfstache speaking."

"Wilford, give me the phone!"

"Hosty! What a surprise!...Oh, Dark? He's a bit hung up at the moment."

"Wilford. I am going to kill you."

"Oh no, I'm so scared." Wilford grinned as the Host's laughter came through the speaker.

"If I tell you about it, will you put me down?"

"Of course Dark."

"....Fine." Wilford let go of Dark, and he fell to the ground with a thud. He stood up, dusted himself off, and unwrapped his slightly squished burger. The Host was still laughing over the phone. Dark grabbed the phone out of Wilford's hand. "Host, could you please compose yourself?"

"I'm sorry, its just...that was the best thing..." The Host trailed off as he broke into another fit of giggles. Wilford was still grinning.  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's a bit of torture in a flashback. Just FYI.

"I hate this plan. There's too much that could go wrong." Dean glared at the road.

"Do you have any suggestions?" Sam asked. Dean didn't answer.

The plan in question was basically 'go to the bunker and wait to see if anyone shows up with the key and the Impala.' That was it. Nothing else.

The car that they had stolen and Sam was currently driving was utter crap, at least in Dean's opinion. This was mostly because it was a powder blue Prius, but that's irrelevant to this story.

They had a long way to go.

~

"Do you remember the Men of Letters, Wil?" Dark asked. He held the small box with the key in his hands and rubbed at the star engraved on the lid.

"...They were a cult, right?”

"No. They were more like a secret society that kept tabs on every kind of supernatural creature to exist, ever," the Host explained. "They have people all over the world, although the American branch disappeared in 1958."

"How do you know all this Host?"

"Way too much drunk research. Anyway, back to the original question Wilford."

Wiford thought back, trying to remember. "I...I think...they were trying to interrogate Dark or something, but it's been so long that I can't remember."

Dark remembered, all too well. He still had nightmares occasionally, even decades later.

"What do you want to do, Dark?" The Host asked.

Dark didn't respond.

"You know what Host, we'll call you back later, ok?" Wilford ended the call and looked at Dark worriedly. "Dark? You ok?"

Dark couldn't hear Wilford. He had already been sucked into the memory.

~

**_Sometime during the early 1930s._ **

They asked questions.

What was he?

What could he do?

Where did he come from?

Things like that.

After each question, they scribbled something down in a book.

Dark couldn't always answer the questions though.

When he couldn't, they hurt him.

When he tried to ask where they had taken Wilford, they hurt him.

Torture.

Was that the term?

Dark hated it.

Then they said, in one of their side conversations that Dark could hear perfectly, something about 'trying an exorcism'.

He did not like the sound of that.

One of them turned to him and started chanting something, in a strange language.

Pain shot through his body, white-hot and burning.

He could hear screaming.

Was it his own?

He couldn't tell.

It felt like a part of Dark's very being, whatever he had in place of a soul, was being ripped away, forced out.

Finally, it stopped. He felt himself slump over in the chair, panting from the pain. His ears rang with a dull whine that blocked everything out.

He tried to lift his head, but he could barely move an inch.

One of the others said something.

Then the pain came back.

It was worse this time. Blood started to pool in his mouth, and it dripped out with his screams.

Someone grabbed Dark's hair and yanked his head up. He tried to look at who it was, but the pain had blinded him, and there was a light shining directly into his eyes.

The pain stopped. They removed him from the chair and dragged him away. He was tossed into a cell and left there. By that point, however, Dark had already passed out.

~

_**Now** _

Dark smelled chocolate.

He opened his eyes to see Wilford holding a chocolate bar near Dark's face.

"You doing ok?" Wilford asked. "You sort of...faded out. I tried to wake you up but you just stared at nothing."

"I'm fine Wilford. You don't need to worry."

"You looked scared, so I brought you chocolate."

Dark reached for the chocolate and realized two things: He was still holding the key box, and his hands were shaking, badly.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why the fuck is it so big?"  
  
"This is where they put their records of, well, everything. If they have anything on you two, it'll be here."  
  
Dark did not like the building at all. It gave off an aura of "I know more than you and most of it is how to kill things like you."   
  
It was downright creepy.  
  
"Do you have the key Dark?" The Host asked.   
  
"Right here." Dark walked up to the door. After a minute of poking at and around it, the door unlocked.  
  
-  
  
It was definitely bigger on the inside. There's no way that many rooms fit inside this small a space. Wilford had already found the garage and claimed it and all the cars in it as his own. The Host was hiding in the library. Dark was left alone in the main room, the old computers humming in the background.  
  
Going through everything in the building on the off chance that there might be something on Dark and Wil was a huge risk.   
It was an even bigger risk to leave it there; it had to be destroyed.  
  
-  
  
When Wilford found the beer, he immediately decided to celebrate. "A toast! To new places!"  
  
"Wilford, we don't need-"  
  
"Oh come on Dark! Live a little!" Wilford handed him a beer. "You're always so tense. You need to relax. Besides, the Host will keep us out of trouble. Right, Host?"  
  
The Host gave a thumbs up from the corner where he was reading.  
  
"See?"  
  
Dark sighed. "Just one."  
  
"Yay!"  
  
~  
  
Sam and Dean arrived in Lebanon after midnight. They were exhausted after driving for so long.  
  
They didn't even bother checking into a hotel; they wouldn't have been able to afford a room anyway. They just parked the car in a secluded spot near the road and got comfortable.  



	7. Chapter 7

Dean woke up to Sam poking him in the shoulder, offering him cheap burgers for breakfast.   
  
"So, what's the plan?" Sam asked.  
  
"Go to the bunker, don't die, and somehow manage to do something?"  
  
"So, the usual?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
~  
  
_They were hurting Wilford. Dark could hear his screams echoing down the hall, feel them reverberate in the cell. It made his chest ache._  
  
_Eventually, Wilford was dragged down the hall and tossed into Dark's cell. He tried to stand but just collapsed into a heap on the floor._  
  
_Dark ran over to him. His face was covered in bruises and his nose was broken. There were long cuts covering his arms that oozed blood. Dark quickly removed his shirt and started tearing it into long strips, bandaging the wounds. Wilford winced._  
  
_"Sorry."_  
  
_"It's ok. At least they-Gah!...didn't cut too deep. Otherwise, it'd need stitches, and I doubt that they would provide any needle or thread." He sat up, wincing at the bruises._  
  
_Dark glanced at the door. Two of them were watching, whispering to each other. He moved in front of Wilford as if to shield him from their gaze._  
  
_"What's happening?"_  
  
_"There's two of them standing at the door."_  
  
_"What are they doing?"_  
  
_"I don't know."_  
  
_A third person appeared. A small flap opened at the bottom of the cell door, letting a loaf of bread and a bowl of water on a platter push through._  
  
_Dark eyed the platter for a few seconds before bringing it over to Wilford. "Here," he said, breaking off a chunk of loaf. "Eat."_  
  
_"What about you?"_  
  
_"I don't need it."_  
  
-  
  
Dark woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar dark room, the dream fading. He bit down his irrational panic and fumbled for a light. In doing so, he somehow managed to fall off the bed and land on his face.  
  
The door opened and Wilford said "Wake up sleepy head! Your breakfast's getting cold!"  
  
"Who let you cook?" Dark muttered as he stood up from the floor. His head throbbed painfully.   
  
"Hey! Whats that supposed to mean?"  
  
Dark walked out into the hallway, squinting against the light. He followed the smell of burnt pancakes to the kitchen, trying to ignore his headache.  
  
The Host was standing near the stove, eating a sandwich, having learned long ago that any food made by Wilford was probably lethal. "Hey Dark. How're you feeling?"  
  
"Like shit." He sighed. "What even happened last night?"  
  
"Do you want the good news or bad news?"  
  
"....bad news."  
  
"Wilford put traps everywhere outside, so now its basically a glitter minefield."  
  
Dark put his head in his hands. "This is going to be a long day."  
  
~  
  
The good news was that the bunker was intact.  
  
The bad news was that they couldn't get anywhere near it without being assaulted by pink glitter.  
  
Cas tried to teleport into the bunker, but he just ended up back outside covered head to toe in the stuff.  
  
"I hate glitter," Dean said.   
  
"At least they're not trying to kill us," Sam said.  
  
"Dying would be better than glitter."  
  
"Why's that, Dean?" Cas asked.  
  
"It doesn't get in your underwear and start itching."  
  
~  
  
"Hey Dark?"  
  
"Yes Wil?"  
  
"You remember those hunters from the asylum?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"They're trying to get inside. And they have a friend."  
  
"They can't get in without the key."  
  
"I know. I was just telling you they were here. Currently they're just talking to each other while covered in glitter."  
  
Dark sighed. Hunters were often extremely stubborn. Glitter traps wouldn't stop them for long. "If they do manage to get in, tie them up in an empty room."  
  
"Oooh! You're going to interrogate them? That's always fun!" Wilford ran off to find some ropes. Dark went back to sorting out the musty books in front of him. His back hurt; he needed to take a break soon.  



	8. Chapter 8

Dean had an idea. "Do you think we could climb in through a window?"  
  
"Probably," Sam said. "We just have to get to the window."  
  
"Yeah, there's probably like 500 more traps up there."  
  
"Of course there is!" said a voice in Dean's ear.  
  
"WHAT THE _FUCK_!?" Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, falling over. The owner of the voice laughed as Dean stared. He looked strangely familiar.  
  
"My name's Wilford Warfstache, and you are?"  
  
"None of your business." Dean stood up and dusted himself off.  
  
"Oh, it's very much my business. You see, if you three manage to get inside," the man, Wilford, gestured at the bunker, "I have to tie you up. And I can't do that if I don't know your names! That would be rude!"  
  
Sam opened his mouth to say something but decided against it.  
  
Cas just stared. The man was...odd, in many ways. His hair was an unnaturally bright pink color. He gave off an energy that was sickeningly sweet. It buzzed under Cas' skin, making him uncomfortable. When he noticed Cas staring, he disappeared from Dean's side and reappeared in front of Cas's face in a puff of pink smoke, causing him to step back.  
  
"Why ya staring angel-face?"  
  
Cas didn't answer.  
  
"Close your mouth hon, you might catch flies." The man suddenly had a knife in his hand, which he used to gently close Cas' gaping mouth.  
  
~  
  
_"Dean shoots out the glass of the window and climbs inside. His brother, Sam, follows him. Wilford is already there, waiting. He manages to disarm the brothers and tie them up. Castiel slips by before Wilford can stop him."_  
  
The Host's narrations snapped Dark out of rereading the same page of the book in his lap for the twentieth time. He looked over at him, surrounded by books. "Host? You okay?"  
  
BANG  
  
A slightly muffled gunshot rang out, followed by the clattering of broken glass. The Host was shaking now, still narrating the events in the other room a few seconds ahead. The bandages around his head started to stain red. Dark quickly ran over to him. "C'mon," he said, helping the Host stand, "let's get you somewhere where you won't hurt yourself."  
  
Dark guided him out into the hall. Wilford was already there, dragging the hunters to a different room.  
  
"Why the fuck are you so heavy?" He said. "Do you guys eat bricks, like, geez!" They kept trying to squirm away, but that was kind of hard with bound legs and arms.  
  
~  
  
Dean stared.  
  
Dean stared at the man with grey skin, the very air around him losing all color, who, like the pink-haired one, was oddly familiar.  
  
Dean stared at the man in the tan trenchcoat leaning on him, who had bandages wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. Where his eyes should have been were dark patches of blood, soaking through the bandages and dripping down his face. Words fell from his lips, words about Dean, about Sam, about Cas.  
  
Dean stared at them until he was dragged around the corner and they were out of sight.  
  
~  
  
Dark found the angel in the main room. When they saw him, their eyes widened. They backed away, trying to get as far away from him as possible.  
  
"You must be Castiel, yes?" The angel didn't answer. They just stared. Dark stepped closer to them. "Not much for talking, are you? I can understand that."   
  
Suddenly, a flash of silver blinked toward his head. He caught it just before it reached him, staggering back a step. It was a blade of sorts, not like anything he'd ever seen before.  
  
The angel stiffened, backing away even further. Dark smiled. "Did you really think that would work?"  
  
~  
  
_Wrong_.  
  
That was the only way Castiel could describe the... _thing_ standing in front of him. Just wrong. The pink one felt human under all of the buzzing, but this was worse.  
  
It was something different, something powerful, something that never should have existed.  
  
Cas was terrified at the thought.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean watched the man in the trenchcoat from earlier pace back and forth across the dungeon. He was still wearing bandages over his eyes, and there was blood on his collar. Why they left _him_ , Dean had no clue. It didn't make much sense.

Dean twisted his hands again, trying to loosen the ropes, but they wouldn't budge. In fact, they had tightened slightly.

"That's not going to work Dean," said the man. Dean froze. _How did he...?_ He glanced over at Sam, then Cas. They were just as confused, and none could respond through the gags. "Wilford is an expert in knot tying. The more you move, the tighter it will get."

_Well fuck_.

He looked up when the other two, Wilford and Dark, entered the room. Wilford walked up to Dean and ripped the duct tape off of his mouth. He did the same with Sam.

"What do you want now?" Dean asked.

"We have come to a decision!" Wilford said dramatically. "And I do believe you will like it!"

"You will help us find that book. If it isn't here, we will go to every other location the Men of Letters had until we do," Dark said.

"And if we don't?" Sam asked.

"We wipe your memory again and leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere. Also, Wilford keeps the car."

"So you're blackmailing us? On a _maybe_? _Maybe_ there's a book?" Dean didn't like this.

"We could just kill you instead."

Dean looked at Sam, then Cas. "Fine."

It wasn't like they had much choice.

~

Cas rubbed the marks on his wrists Dark's power had left. It had been burning and freezing all at once, and Cas had felt it with his true form.

He had no idea how Dark did that, but it worried him. Dark was...

_Bad._

_Wrong._

_Unnatural._

_Evil._

Cas hated being near him. Just his aura was enough to make Cas' skin crawl. Cas had never had his skin crawl before. He did not like it.


End file.
